


Dream a Little Dream (of me)

by LadyBecky



Series: Dream Series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Language, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:06:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5379698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBecky/pseuds/LadyBecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You receive a strange message on your social media page that makes you begin to doubt what is real. - Are you truly stuck in a coma, in an alternate world created in your mind? The Winchester’s are trying desperately to get you to wake up, to come home to them. - You need your family to figure it out... but never did you expect your family to be... the Winchesters?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a Little Dream (of me)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello loves! I'm new to the Ao3 site, usually posting on fanfiction.net and Tumblr under LadyBecky...  
> Please let me know if y'all like the stories, if have a few prompts in the works with this idea, so let me know here or on Tumblr if you want me to continue the storyline!  
> Thanks! ~Lady Becky

 

 

 

“You really think this is going to work Sam?” Dean stared hard at the message on his brother’s laptop, as if willing it into magically transforming the situation within room.

Sam looked up at his brother, seeing the fear hidden in his eyes. He sighed.

“I don’t know for sure, Dean. But Cas seems to think it could be our best chance… And to be honest, we are kind of running out of options,” Sam scowled as he glanced towards the hospital bed. “You heard the doctors…”

“Shut up. Shut up now!” Dean snapped, his eyes darting quickly from the screen to the bed and then to Sam’s gaze. “Don’t you fucking say it, not in front of her…”

Sam pressed his lips together in a tight line.

“Okay… okay,” Sam spoke gently. “So- we try. It’s worth the shot.”

Dean watched as Sam hit ‘post’ on the screen, sending the odd sounding message off into cyberspace.

 

* * *

 

 

You look up from the screen, shutting down the link to Netflix after finishing another marathon of your favorite show, Supernatural. The light from the doorway is blocked briefly as the nurse comes into your room, doing her nightly rounds. She hands you a small paper cup of pills, and you sigh heavily.

“How did this get to be my life?” you mutter under your breath.

“Come on now dear, you know the pills will help you sleep,” the nurse stated as she poured you a cup of water.

“And if you don’t take them, the doctor will only change the orders to injections…” she mentioned.

You scowl darkly, holding back the shiver at the thought of a needle, grabbed the cup and swallowed the pills quickly.

Opening your mouth wide, you wait for her to check to make sure you downed the damn things.

Again you wonder how this became your life.

“Good girl,” the woman says condescendingly. You give her a smirk.

“Lights out in ten minutes,” she tells you as you grab your phone quickly to send out a good night message to your family.

Same as you had every night since you got stuck in this godforsaken place.

And the doctors still couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong.

This was like being in freaking jail, trapped in your own failing body.

You send the text and shift over to your social media sites. A glance at the clock shows you have a few minutes left before Nurse Ratched came back to remind you the doctor ordered you sleep.

As if you had insomnia on purpose, you scoff internally. Or that you had any control over the fact that your body was turning against you, attacking itself from the inside out.

Checking your timeline, you stop as the screen blinks and a message catches your eyes.

_What the-_

A name and profile picture you don’t recognize pops up.

Dean Winchester.

 _Seriously?_  You frown at the screen in irritation.

Which one of your friends was being a smart ass and getting a chuckle from adding that name from your fandom onto your timeline.

_Haha, very funny. Tease the sick chick._

You click the name, but it does not go to the profile page. Broken link.

Great. The site is crapping out.

 _Oh well. At least it waited until the pills kicked in,_  you think as your eyes start feeling heavy.

You read the words on that one post that is stuck on your screen, wrinkling your nose at the errors in the text between ‘your’ and ‘you’re’, which is a pet peeve of yours. Suddenly you swear you heard Dean’s voice calling you a grammar nazi.

 _Wow. Must be watching too much Netflix_ …

 

Stop.  _Stop_  scrolling.  _Stop_  what your doing and listen. You don’t belong here. This isn’t your life. My name is Dean, and my brother Sam is helping me with this. You’ve been stuck in a coma for about two years now, and Cas thinks he’s finally found a way to contact you. He thinks you should still be in touch with your memories of us, the Impala, and the  _family business_. That’s why your so obsessed with Supernatural in your coma, because you realize where you belong. Wake up. Please. I can’t live without you. I can’t stand you gone anymore.  _I’m so sorry_. This is all my fault. I should’ve known, I could’ve stopped this. We could still be together right now. Just,  ** _please_**.

 

You shake your head at the ridiculousness of the prank as you close out the screen and plug in your earbuds. Turning the music up, you drown out the sounds of the hospital around you, listening instead to the playlist you have marked “Dean”, another hallmark of your incredible Supernatural obsession. You even have bootlegged downloads of Jensen singing some of the songs on the list.

You press play over one now, listening to his voice singing ‘Sister Christian’ as you sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel stood just outside the hospital room door, listening to Dean singing softly at the bedside. He could hear the grief in his friend’s tone.

The doctors who had been watching over her these past two years had delivered bad news earlier, so Cas could understand where the melancholy was coming from…

Despite their best attempts, the doctors had explained to the brothers, she was losing her battle against whatever it was that held her in the coma.

And they were clueless as to what was causing it.

But Sam and Dean knew. Castiel knew.

She’d been attacked by a trickster. The bastard had escaped after knocking her unconscious during the fight- and he’d left her stuck in her own head as a parting gift.

Nothing they found could pull her out of it. No charm, no spell…

This contact was their last ditch effort- because her body was shutting down, and the doctors were suggesting that it was time to pull the plug off the machines that were holding her here.

Cas knocked gently against the half open door before he stepped into the room.

Dean looked up at the door, quickly scrubbing a hand over his face and clearing his throat roughly.

“Hey. Cas,” he mumbled. “Any word from upstairs?” Dean asked his friend.

Cas only shook his head silently as he moved to the other side of the bed. He looked down at the face of his friend with sorrow.

“Heaven has no different answers, Dean. They won’t. It isn’t her time- this isn’t natural… that’s all we know.”

Dean scowled. “And there aren’t any Reapers here, right?” he asked, glancing around the room. He’d fight them if they tried to take her…

“No, not in the room. Only the ones conducting business within the hospital…” Cas answered.

“Maybe I could…” Dean saw Castiel’s frown as he started to suggest trapping another Reaper.

“We tried that, Dean. They have no answers either. They only know her name is not on their list. That’s why she’s still hanging on…”

“There’s got to be something we can do Cas!” Dean shouted, the sound echoing off the walls in the little room. He took a breath and got a grip on his anger.

“They want to shut down the machines, Cas. I- I don’t know what will happen when they do…” Dean worried out loud.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t have those answers either. If Angels and Reapers don’t come for her, and this body dies… I don’t know what will become of her spirit either,” the angel said sadly.

Dean swiped at his face again. “Then this ‘body’ just can’t die…” he snapped. “I won’t let them shut off the machines.”

He glanced at the tubes that ran from her to the various pieces of equipment. Feeding tubes, ventilator, IV fluids, monitors that read her vitals- he knew more about what each piece did for her than half the doctors now. More than he ever wanted to know.

“Dean…” Castiel began to warn him against the idea he could see brewing in his friend’s eyes. “She wouldn’t want that…”

“She wouldn’t want to stay with me? With us?” he asked angrily. “That’s not true. She’d stay!”

“She wouldn’t want you stealing equipment and trying to keep her body alive in the bunker. You know that…”

“She’d kick your ass for even thinking about it…” Sam’s voice joined the conversation as he entered the room after making a late dinner run. He met Dean’s eyes with a sympathetic smile.

Dean grabbed the bag of food from his brother.

“I’d take the ass kicking, if she’d just wake the frig up,” he grumbled, his voice turning softer. He threw himself into the chair beside the bed and started to eat one of the sandwiches.

Sam sighed and pulled out one for himself, joining his brother.

“Dude, maybe this cyber message will work. You know, like a Matrix red pill, blue pill type thing? We need to give it a chance…” Sam said hopefully.

Dean tried to swallow the food stuck against the lump in his throat.

“Yeah… maybe,” he managed to get out. “As long as she chooses the red pill…”

_Please. Please pick the red pill Princess. I can’t do this without you…_

* * *

 

_I’m dreaming_ , you think to yourself as you sit on a couch in a room you don’t recognize, cuddled up in the arms of someone you can’t see. It’s dark, but you feel safe, warm and loved.

Voices around you talk, but you can’t make out the conversations other than they aren’t talking to you. You turn your attention back to the television. The Matrix is on, adding an odd light through the darkness of the room.

You settle in to watch the movie; after all it is a good one. The arm around you tightens and you smell a heady combination of cinnamon, a woodsy cologne and something just very yummy and  _male_ …

Smiling, you rest your head back against the shoulder and feel lips touch against your temple.

“I’d always take the red pill,” you comment to the room. “I’d always choose reality over fantasy…”

“Even if the reality sucks?” the voice beside you asks. It sounds so familiar…

“This sucks?” you ask. “Really? You think that?”

The arm at your waist pulls you closer. “Not at the moment, but sometimes it does. Even you have to admit that, Mary Sunshine…” the voice teases.

You shake your head. “I’ll take the sucky days, as long as these days still come along…” you say, patting the arm. “It makes it all worth it.”

The voice rumbles lower in the chest you are leaning against and you hear it whisper in your ear.

“You make it worth it…” he breathes out on a soft growl, nipping at your neck. You giggle as it tickles.

“Knock it off, idiot…” you chuckle, shoving him away from your sensitive skin. You hear him laugh and your heart flips a little at the sound. He didn’t laugh nearly often enough and that thought brings in a bit of sadness to your mind.

 _Take the red pill, please_ … you hear a voice in your head as the dream fades away.

 

* * *

 

The night dragged on. Dean squeezed her hand, lifting it quickly to his lips while he was alone in the room for a bit. Sam and Cas had taken a walk, giving him some privacy with her. Nobody wanted to leave her side tonight for too long, considering that none of them knew what may happen once the doctor’s unplugged her tomorrow…

Dean’s face hardened into a mask as he refused to think about that.

“Take the red pill, please…” he begged her again, leaning closer to her ear. “Please, Princess. You promised…” his said as his voice cracked with emotion. He sighed, remembering the night at Bobby’s house when they’d all watched the Matrix together. It was one of his happy memories with his family, and he hoarded those thoughts like precious jewels.

She’d said then that she’d always take the red pill. She’d always choose reality. Because those stolen happy moments had made it all worth it.

Castiel hadn’t been able to heal her. Not during any of this time. He hadn’t been able to bring her back, or shake her out of wherever it was that her mind had her trapped. Where that fucking Trickster had trapped her…

Dean scrubbed tiredly at his face as he beat himself up again over the case that had brought them to this point. He’d only turned his back for a moment, those two years ago. He’d chased after what he’d thought was the Trickster, leaving her behind while he did his fucking job.

It had disappeared before his eyes, laughing manically. When he’d caught sight of Sam at the end of the alley, they’d both known then that it had only been a distraction to separate them- and they raced back to her side.

But it was too late. They found her slumped on the ground, unconscious. They rushed her to the hospital, but the doctors couldn’t find a reason for her coma.

Even now, as the machines continued to hum, nobody could figure out what held her back.

And Dean had never forgiven himself. Not once in those years. He couldn’t.

She’d been taken from him, hurt on his watch. The one thing he’d always promised her was that he’d protect her. And he’d failed.

In those two years, he’d only left her side for the briefest moments, and only when he could leave Sam or Cas watching over her. He trusted no one.

And only once had he hunted- the time Sam had found a lead on the Trickster. They left Castiel watching her and follow the signs to the creature.

But it hadn’t been the one who’d trapped her. It had no useful information on how to remove her from the other one’s trap.

So it died a vicious death under his hands. It suffered, greatly. After all, he’d learned alot from his his time in Hell... from Alastair…

Dean knew how to bring pain, especially since he’d known so much of it himself.

It helped nothing. It didn’t bring her back to him. He still didn’t have her… so he continued to suffer himself.

Maybe that was his punishment. His  _curse_. He never believed he deserved her love anyway.

Now he may lose her forever.

Dean pressed a kiss to her temple, leaning closer to her until his face was buried against her neck.

He straightened up in the chair as Sam and Cas re-entered the room. He could see the look in Sam’s eyes and knew his brother was trying to find comforting words. There were no words…

Sam tried to think out something to say to help his brother, but Dean’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head. Sam just closed his mouth, sighing heavily. He took the chair opposite Dean’s across the bed and held her other hand.

Dean shuddered internally, hiding it from Sam, appreciating his brother’s silence more than words.

“Cas? Can you, ya know, do your thing again and look?” Dean asked huskily, watching her face in the soft morning light that was starting to fill the room. Time was running out.

Castiel stood beside him, reaching over the bed to touch her forehead. A soft blue light moved between the angel’s fingers to her forehead as he read her thoughts for his friend.

“She’s sleeping,” Cas told him gently. “Dreaming…”

Dean grunted. “Ah, about what?” he asked gruffly, needing to know. He wanted the connection to her…

Sam saw a look move over Cas’s face.

“About you,” he responded. “The both of you… She’s remembering, she just doesn’t realize it.”

That news made Dean smile sadly. Sam asked for more information for his brother’s benefit. He understood that Dean wanted as much contact as possible. Hell, he did too…

“Can you tell what she’s remembering, Cas?” Sam questioned.

Castiel closed his eyes, seeing what was in her mind.

“She heard you singing earlier,” he told Dean. “She thinks she’s listening to it in her device- she doesn’t realize it’s really you.”

Sam saw his brother shudder and lean closer, whispering something in her ear.

Castiel held his position, watching for a few more moments. “She’s remembering being at Bobby’s house, watching a movie with all of you.”

Dean picked his head up at that. “Um, the Matrix?” he asked hopefully, looking from Cas to Sam.

“Yes- that is it,” Cas nodded.

“That’s good!” Sam said sitting forward in the seat, squeezing her fingers. “That means she’s been listening, she’s been hearing us… right?” he asked Dean excitedly.

Dean held on to his hopes a little tighter. He nodded at Sam, licking his lips anxiously as his eyes moved back to her face.

Sometimes he found himself afraid to hope.

Cas tilted his head a little, listening to her thoughts. “She is recalling the conversation about the movie…”

“The red pill?” Dean asked softly.

“Yes,” Cas nodded. “That’s it.”

Dean held his breath, letting it out slowly. He saw something change in the angel’s face.

“Cas- what’s wrong? Something is wrong…” he could see his friend was holding back something.

“It’s, um…” Castiel hesitated and looked away from the older Winchester’s gaze.

“Cas!” Dean demanded, standing up from the chair. “Tell me. Now…”

 

* * *

 

 You whimpered in your sleep, feeling awful and uncomfortable. The blankets felt too hot… hell, the whole room felt too hot- and it seemed like something was pressing on your throat.

Somewhere in your groggy mind, you remember you are in the hospital and you try to reach for the button to call the nurse, but your arms won’t move. You are paralyzed and it was getting harder and harder to breathe…

_God… please… is this how I’m going to die? Now? Like this? Scared and alone?_

You hear that voice again. That one from your dream earlier. That nice, wonderful, deep voice along with the scent of cinnamon and cologne. It was so very close…

 _“You hang on damn it! You hear me?! You hang on and you fight the fuck back, because you are a fucking hunter, goddamn it and we always keep fighting! Don’t you dare give up now!!”_  the voice screamed in your head, so clearly that it jolted you out of the panic attack.

You snapped up in the bed, your face dripping in sweat and every breath heaving from your lungs as if you had just run a marathon. Your hands lift shakily to your throat, still feeling like something had been pressing against it.

Now wide awake, you grab the call button and pressed it, bringing the nurse to your room.

 

* * *

 

 

“Cas! Is she safe? Is she alright now?” Dean shouted, his voice rising with his fear. He looked from her face to his friend’s eyes which were glowing blue as he searched her mind.

“She’s safe, for now, yes…”

“For now?” Sam’s voice sounded as tense as Dean’s. “For now?! How- how can this be happening? How is the Trickster hurting her, inside her mind?”

Castiel’s eyes faded back into their normal more human blue as he regarded the younger brother.

“I don’t think the Trickster ever left. I think he’s been hiding inside her head this whole time…” Cas told them as pieces of the mystery started to fall into place.

“What?!” the guys said simultaneously.

“Come again, Cas?” Dean snapped.

“I can’t be certain- some of what I see is being blocked… but from what I can tell right now, in her mind, she is also in a hospital or some sort of facility. She believes she is sick, and those doctors cannot tell what is going wrong either… The Trickster is in her mind, convincing her she is ill-”

Sam let out a stressed breath. “So, she thinks she’s dying. And if she believes it in her mind, inside the ‘matrix’, we’ll call it…”

“Then she’ll die…” Cas nodded, seeing that Sam understood the problem.

“No. NO!” Dean raised his voice again, turning to the girl lying on the bed. “God damn it, no!”

He punched the wall beside the bed and started pacing the room. “We need to get in her head! What about the dream root-”

“Dean, we already tried that…” Sam stated.

“We have to try again! We have to try something! Sammy, come on! I’m not going to sit here and just watch her die!” Dean shouted, panic beginning to flood his system.

Castiel stood in front of Dean, blocking his path.

“There is one thing left to try…” he told the hunter.

“What? For God’s sake Cas- just tell us! I’ll try anything!”

Cas looked between the brother’s steady gazes and sighed.

“You have to let her go…”

 

* * *

 

 The nurse comes into your room in response to your call. She hands you a cup of those damnable pills and you scowl.

“I don’t want any more drugs. I want freaking answers!” you tell her as you push the cup aside.

“Sweetheart,” the nurse says in a saccharine voice that gets on your nerves. “You know you have to take these. Doctor’s orders are clear. And they help… they keep the panic away…”

You look into the cup, staring at the blue pills that you’ve been taking day in and day out for the last month.

“They have not been helping,” you scowl, meeting the nurse’s eyes. “They just mask the problem. And no one here is telling me what that problem is… So- I want answers. You tell the doctor that I want to see him, today, now, preferably, and I’m not taking another god damned pill until I get those answers!” you tell her, your voice rising as your frustration begins to peak.

The nurse sighs and rolls her eyes. “You’re already starting to act out, and the pills aren’t even out of your system yet,” she warns you. “Think. Think of how bad this could get. The pain you will feel when they wear off…”

She tries cajoling you into taking the pills, handing the cup to you once more and smiling sweetly.

“Your family will be so disappointed if you do anything to cause a setback…” she says, trying to convince you.

You scowl darkly, grabbing the cup and flinging it across the room.

“Then tell the doctor to come here… before they wear off,” you tell her.

The nurse sighs heavily and leaves the room. You lean back against the bed and scrub at your face tiredly.

This isn’t right, you think to yourself. You don’t want to hurt your family. Family is everything to you…

You pick up your phone and see a ton of texts from them. Each one saying how much they love you. Each one worried about you.

You frown slightly.

When was the last time they came to visit?

Why couldn’t you remember that?

You could see faces in your mind’s eye, you could remember them and even remember some pretty sweet memories… holidays, vacations, life events- even school, work, boyfriends- the whole works…

Yet you couldn’t remember them being here, in this hospital room. Ever.

Thinking harder, you couldn’t remember how you got here… just that you felt sick…

Fighting down the panic attack that started to claw its way up your throat, you look over at the empty cup on the floor.

Maybe you were going crazy. Maybe you should have taken the frigging pills…

 

* * *

 

 

Dean watched as the doctors and nurses moved around the small room, disconnecting the machines from where she lay as still as death in the bed.

He met Sam’s eyes, holding his gaze to help steady him.

“Cas…” Dean slid a glance over towards the angel. “I hope you are right about this…” he ground out.

Castiel’s face was a grim mask. He’d already told the brothers he couldn’t be certain. But they all knew it was their only shot.

It was up to her. She had to fight back. She had to want to come back.

“Are you ready?” one of the doctors asked gently. “Once we disconnect your wife from this last machine, it should only be a few minutes…”

Dean’s heart twisted in his chest, not only from the thought of losing her, but from the word ‘wife’.

_If only…_

They’d used the ruse of husband and wife so many times... why hadn’t he actually ever asked her? Why had he always just assumed she’d be there?

Why hadn’t he made their relationship his first priority?

Sam saw the look on Dean’s face and reached across the bed to grab his brother’s hand.

“It’s not over,” he whispered to him. “Not yet…”

Dean took a steadying breath and tightened his lips into a grim line. He nodded, unable to trust his voice to speak. 

Sam saw the struggle and took over the conversation with the doctor.

“Doctor- after you disconnect her, uh, we would like to have a few moments. Please. Without anyone in the room. For, um, religious purposes,” Sam lied smoothly.

The doctor nodded. “Of course,” he responded, looking at the team in the room. He indicated to them to begin to leave, and the room cleared out.

Dean stuttered out a breath. “Thank you,” he spoke gruffly.

The doctor placed a hand on Dean’s arm, giving it a quick squeeze as he turned to leave the room.  Dean flinched at the contact.

As soon as the door closed, Sam hurried to push a dresser in front of it, blocking anyone from returning.

Dean reached into the upper arm of his jacket, pulling out a rolled up parfleche of ceremonial daggers. He could feel blood dripping down his arm where one had dug into his flesh when the doctor had accidentally drove it into his skin.

He spread the items out on the bed alongside her, working hurriedly. A glance up at the machine on his left told him her heart was still beating, but it was slowing.

“Faster Sammy…” he growled as Sam read the ancient Latin text over her body that would supposedly help Dean connect to her spirit before she passed.

Castiel held his hand against her forehead, hoping for the opportunity to heal her, while watching whatever it was that she was seeing in her thoughts. He scowled slightly as he read her mind.

“Dean- wait! Don’t tell her to kill anyone…” he told the older brother.

“What? Cas- she has to- she has to find the Trickster and kill it, before it kills her!” Dean responded angrily, not understanding the change in the game plan.

“She can’t kill it in her mind. It may make her believe she’s crazy or worse, a murderer, because she doesn’t believe in monsters on her side. She isn’t even a hunter in that life. She thinks it is all make believe. You won’t be able to convince her to kill without cementing her there with the belief she is insane…”

“Then what!?!” Dean shouted at the angel, hearing Sam coming to the end of the spell. “What can I tell her that will make her realize she belongs here!”

Cas met Dean’s gaze steadily. “Family, Dean. It still means everything to her, even there. Remind her who her family is… Remind her to fight back… She’s beginning to question reality on that side… you can use that, if you can connect to her. Remind her what she has  _here_ to fight for…”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly at the thought of having to pour his heart out instead of the original plan of just hunting down the creature and fighting back. Fighting was easier for him. Simple. Kill or be killed. It was what he knew.

Wasn’t it what she knew too?

Sam finished the spell and dipped the tip of the dagger into the herbs in the ritual bowl in front of him. He handed it towards Dean with a nod.

“Sammy, uh, maybe y-you should-” Dean stared at the dagger, then Sam. His younger brother was better at this emotional stuff… and Sam was her best friend…

“No- it has to be you, Dean. You are closer. As much as I love her- you love her more. She knows that. It has to be you. You can do this…”

Dean placed the tip of the dagger against her skin, just above her tattoo. When she bled, he quickly moved the dagger to his own arm, above his own ink, mixing their blood.

He prayed that it worked as he leaned over beside her, speaking into her ear as the monitor kept a slowing account of her heartbeats.

“I love you, Princess. I can’t live without you. I’ve tried... God knows how I’ve failed. I’ve done everything I could from here. I’ve even tried making deals, after we promised we wouldn’t-” he admitted to her softly.

“I’ve tried every spell- Hell, I even tried to capture a Reaper… I’ve run out of options on this side. I need you to try now. Please, baby. Please try, whatever means, however you can… for me. For us. I know- I…” he stammered on the words, his voice cracking, tears choking his throat.

“I know I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. I don’t know what is happening where you are, or if you are happy- and maybe, if you are, part of me thinks I shouldn’t even be asking you to come back… I shouldn’t be so goddamn selfish. You deserve to be happy…”

Dean took a deep breath, swallowing hard.

“But, Princess- I am. I’m a selfish bastard. I want you here. I need you here, better or worse, I need you with me! And if I lose you…”

He stopped speaking again as emotions shut down his voice. The tightness in his chest increased, squeezing the air out of his lungs.

“If I lose you, baby… I’m done. Selfish or not. I’ll go out fighting, taking as many fucking monsters out with me as I possibly can- but I’m not staying here without you. I’m just done…” he breathed out slowly, admitting the emptiness in his soul.

Sam listened, meeting Castiel’s eyes. Hearing his brother’s confession hurt. He understood the pain. God knows they both knew that pain. But he didn’t want to lose both of the people he loved. He didn’t want to lose her and his brother. Whatever happened next, they had to get Dean through this.

 

* * *

 

 You close your eyes for a moment, pulling up your memories, thinking about your family to keep yourself grounded and sane.

They’d want you to keep fighting. They’d want you to get better.

You feel a pain on your arm and look down at it. Your eyes widen in shock when you see your arm begin to bleed for no apparent reason.

_What in the hell?!?_

The nurse comes back in the room, carrying another paper cup.

“I told you, I’m not taking any pills,” you remind her. “I want to talk to my doctor.”

“He’s tied up with other patients right now, sweetie. He’ll be by later. But for now, be a good girl and take your medicine…”

“No,” you say flatly, crossing your arms over your chest.

The nurse sighs. “Then I will have to get an order for the injections…” she warns you.

“No. I still have a right to refuse those too. I won’t have any more drugs until I talk to my doctor…” you tell her.

“You know, your family has warned you that if you don’t follow doctor’s orders, they’d take over power of attorney and make the right choices for you…” the woman reminds you.

“Then where are they?” you ask. “Where are all these people so concerned for me?”

The nurse looks shocked. “I thought you had told me you talk to them every day? You’ve said over and over how much you love them… You said that’s what you fight for…”

You scowl, eyeing her up. “Yes. So I ask again, where are they then?”

The nurse rolled her eyes. “ _You_ told them you didn’t want visitors. You didn’t want them seeing you sick like this… practically threw them out of the room… so they text you instead,” she tells you.

You think about that for a moment, trying to remember. Your head begins to hurt as a migraine works its way in your head.

“Ah!” you cry out, pressing your hands against your temples, curling up against your knees. “Owww!”

“See?” the nurse said to you. “You are already starting to hurt from not taking these,” she warns, holding out the cup.

Behind your closed eyelids, you see flashes of a sad smile. You hear that voice in your ears, and feel a breath on your skin that raises goosebumps. Your heart breaks when suddenly you glimpse the grief in a pair of deep green eyes…

 _No_ … you think.  _No- he can’t be hurt again. Not again… He’s already been through so much._

The pain gets worse. The nurse presses the cup into your hand.

“Take the pills,” she demands.

An arm around your shoulder. A kiss on your forehead. That voice. That scent… it’s begging you to stay with him.

You take the cup from the nurse, squeezing the pills tightly in your fist.

Then, nothing. Just the dark… 

 

* * *

 

 

“Sammy, help me…” Dean cried out as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Her body started seizing and the monitor spiked with the racing heartbeat.

Sam leaned forward and starts talking in her other ear, just as Dean had done. Every memory, the late nights when they’d stayed up talking about everything… he added his thoughts to Dean’s.

Sam pressed a kiss to her temple.

“I need you too, sweetheart. Please- stay with us... for me, and for Dean. You are my sister, and I love you too… We can’t lose you,” Sam told her.

Dean held her closer, keeping her trapped against his chest. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead as Castiel pulled away, breaking the connection.

Tears gathered in Dean’s eyes as the monitor called out a flat-line.

“I love you baby. I always will…” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “Forever.”

 

* * *

 

A tear escapes his eye and drops onto your cheek as you wake up…

 

**Author's Note:**

> So? What did y’all think at my first story? I’m thinking of adding more to the line- like what happens now after you come back type thing… thoughts?
> 
> ~LadyBecky


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